


the symbiosis of wind and trees

by malkinisms (hannibalisms)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:45:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/997115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannibalisms/pseuds/malkinisms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything was going fine, in his opinion; he liked his job, even though he was sitting behind a desk and not working the streets, but that would come soon enough.  Soon enough he’d be able to go on raids and help out on drug busts.  For now, though, Bilbo Baggins is happy to work with the computers and the programs and run programs to try and determine the best way to work with their LEADS information.  He likes his job, and his colleagues, and how they help people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the symbiosis of wind and trees

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brodinsons (aeon_entwined)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeon_entwined/gifts).



> for [kay, on her birthday, because she’s awesome](http://brodinsons.tumblr.com/)
> 
> also [here on tumblr](http://hannibalisms.tumblr.com/post/40317413504/the-symbiosis-of-winds-and-trees)
> 
> kay, you are an awesome person and i feel so happy that i met you on tumblr c: i hope you like this, even if i don’t know the exact things that happened in the film since i haven’t seen it. i hope your birthday was amazing!!!!

Everything was going fine, in his opinion; he liked his job, even though he was sitting behind a desk and not working the streets, but that would come soon enough.  Soon enough he’d be able to go on raids and help out on drug busts.

For now, though, Bilbo Baggins is happy to work with the computers and the programs and run programs to try and determine the best way to work with their [LEADS](http://www.leadsonline.com/) information.  He likes his job, and his colleagues, and how they help people.

It’s awesome until Thorin Oakenshield becomes head of [MEG](http://www.lakecountymeg.org/) and Bilbo has to deal with him.

Thorin is the kind of MEG officer that, when he’s working, knows he’s the head of a division and acts like it.  Everyone should listen and if they don’t listen, well, there will be hell to pay.

The first time Bilbo introduces himself, Thorin looks him up and down once, then turns on the ball of his foot and goes into his office without a word.

Bilbo just stands there.

Bofur bursts into laughter.  ”Well, that went well.”

"Shut up," Bilbo retorts, and he can’t help the flush that spreads over his cheeks from both embarrassment and humiliation.

"He’ll figure out you’re useful sooner rather than later, Bilbo," Bofur says, waving his hand at Bilbo’s desk.  "You’ve been awesome with the numbers and the plans."

"Well, I’m glad someone thinks you’re useful, DJ," Dwalin quips as he walks past, slapping Bilbo heavily on his shoulder.  Dwalin’s one of the undercover agents and he beefs up at the gym every afternoon, and delights in making Bilbo feel smaller than he already is.

"DJ?" Bofur asks.

“‘Desk Jockey,’ since that’s what he does,” Dwalin says, air quotes and all.

Bofur tosses his head back and laughs until he’s out of breath.

Bilbo slumps down at his desk.  Great.

* * *

 

He deals with Thorin, because he has to, but it doesn’t help that Thorin is good looking, with his ridiculous long hair and his beard and the smile that he gives to others but never to Bilbo.

It makes him jealous and upset all at the same time, so that all he does is grumble and complain; he does it to Beorn and Sting, his cats, and to his friends, and to his coffee maker, and the cute barista at the coffee shop that always winks and gives him an extra shot for free.

"Maybe he has the hots for you," Cute Barista says, and Bilbo laughs about that all the way to the department and through the first fifteen minutes of work until Thorin comes through the door and all the humor is sucked out of him.

Thorin takes one glance at him and stops for a second.  ”Baggins, with me.”

"What?"

"With  _me_ , Baggins.”

Bilbo sighs.  He gathers up his things and shuffles into Thorin’s office, glaring at Bofur as he hums Chopin’s Funeral March as he walks by.  He’s surrounded by children.

Thorin drops a file on the desk and motions at it.  ”This is for the latest raid on the Goblins.  We need someone that’s not known out there.  You’re with us on this raid.  You designed it, you worked with the officers that were on the last one.  I didn’t want you with us because you’re not a street cop, but the upper echelons insist that you get time out there.”

"Um," Bilbo says, and Thorin nods as though it’s an agreement.

"Good.  It’s next week.  Get prepared."

Thorin looks down at a sheaf of papers on his desk and Bilbo knows he’s dismissed. He leaves and Bofur raises his eyebrow.  ”So you’re on the raid, DJ?”

"Oh god, not you, too," Bilbo moans, and slumps into his seat.  "This is not how I wanted to start working the street."

* * *

 

They’re in a van disguised as a large cleaning service, specializing in whole-house cleaning.  He doesn’t think this will work.  There’s 11 people in the back with him, plus Thorin up front, and the driver that Bilbo has yet to place.

They’ve been given scripts and tasks and places to be and watch, and Bofur nudges him with an elbow.

"You ready?"

"Enough."

They don’t say anything else until they trundle up to the house that they’re using as cover; they all spill out and Bilbo does his part by telling Dwalin that he’s going to go up to the corner store and get them all bottles of water.

Before he leaves the van he makes sure that his bullet-proof vest can’t be seen, because that would ruin everything.  It’s hidden, and he starts walking.  It starts out well.  The plan looks good.

It doesn’t stay that way.

He’s leaving the corner store, laden with bottles of water, when shots ring out and there are screams, and he drops the water and dives behind a car, leaning down into a hidden mic in his lapel and whispering, “Unit 34-A, shots fired, shots fired,” and peeks around the edge of the car.

Thorin’s standing on the stoop, gun leveled at a giant of a man who’s aiming a sawed-off at him; he’s talking and Bilbo strains to hear the words.

"Drop the gun, Azog, and no one will get hurt, all right?"

"Fuck that, man, fuck it, you think that’s what they said to my brother when your squads offed him?"

"I don’t know anything about your brother, Azog, aside that what happened to him  _shouldn’t_ have happened.  Just drop the gun and no one will get hurt.”

"What about my brother, though, huh?  He got hurt!  Your people hurt him, Oakenshield, you fucker!"

"And we’ll figure out why they did that, Azog, but only if you  _drop the gun_.”

The muzzle of he shotgun drops a fraction and for just a moment, a split second, Bilbo thinks this will end well but then Thorin lunges at Azog and the muzzle of Azog’s gun drops down and smashes him across the face, and Thorin’s down for the count.

Azog grins down at Thorin’s slumped figure and Bilbo can’t see anything in the house, no movement, except for Dwalin and the brothers Fili and Kili crouched around a dumpster, guns aimed squarely at Azog.

No one moves, except the wind through the tree limbs.

Azog shifts, the muzzle of his gun points at Thorin and before Bilbo can think about it, he’s gotten two shots off - one to the shoulder and one to the shin, and Azog hits the pavement.

Bilbo is out from around car and on him in seconds, shouting, “Stay down, don’t move, don’t move!” with one knee pinning him before he manages to wrestle away the sawed-off and cuff his hands.

He gets Azog’s blood all over him in the scuffle but it doesn’t matter because Dwalin’s coming out from the dumpster and all of Azog’s crew - hidden in a car behind them - comes out and it’s hell for a second, shouting and yelling and guns dropping before it stills and people have been cuffed and secured.

Bilbo glances over at Thorin, who’s bleeding from a good gash in his forehead but breathing.  That’s all that matters, that Thorin’s alive and not dead, and that’s good, makes him warm.

Then the auxiliaries are coming around the corner, cherries on and sirens wailing and some ambulances, too.

One of the EMTs pulls him off Azog and shoves him in an ambulance, even over his protests that he’s not wounded, it’s not his blood, but then he catches sight of Thorin being put in the same ambulance and he quiets down.

They’re parted in the ER and once Bilbo manages to fend off a nurse and convince her he’s fine, just filthy, she lets him shower at the nurse’s station and gives him a spare set of scrubs.  He puts his uniform in a biohazard bag.  Maybe he’ll burn it later.

He makes it back to the ER and asks around for Thorin and finds him arguing with a nurse about how he can leave, he’s fine, it’s just some stitches, but it’s clear that Thorin’s not going to win.

When Thorin catches sight of him he stills and the nurse takes the opportunity to start bandaging his head, and he has to let her finish or risk pain.

She rolls her eyes at Bilbo as she passes and he smiles, because he knows the feeling.

Thorin doesn’t say anything for a moment, then sighs.  ”I hear that you’re the reason I’ve only got stitches, Baggins.”

Bilbo shrugs.  ”I would have done it for any one of my fellow officers.”

Thorin grins, a little quirk of his lips and it’s the first smile that he’s ever gotten from the man.  ”Well, I appreciate it.”

* * *

From there it’s strange, almost, how things change.

After the fiasco of the raid, they have to sit through meetings and workshops but they all come out more determined to root out this problem in their city.  They intensify stakeouts, work more on running simulations and similar things.

Bilbo spends more and more time on the computers, living in his space and trying hard to make sure that no one gets injured on a raid that he designs ever again.

Whenever he sees the scar running over Thorin’s eyebrow, bright pink and shiny, it makes his stomach twist and turn.

_Thorin_  himself makes his stomach twist and turn since the moment in the hospital when Thorin smiled.  He doesn’t smile much, and to get one sends pretty much anyone in the department into a frenzy.

Thorin has been strange since then and their tenuous work relationship has changed into a friendship, even.

6 months after Azog is taken down, Thorin brings him lunch.  It’s just a sandwich and a soda, but Bilbo is surprised and leaves it for a while, until hunger gnaws at his sides and he has to eat before he passes out.

Thorin brings him lunch frequently now, sometimes with a danish or a cruller.  Bilbo gets coffee in the morning, and during the midday Thorin will bring him a tea (Thorin has good taste in tea).

When Bilbo has been sitting at his desk for too long, Thorin will haul him up by the elbow and drag him across the street to the deli and they’ll have a break.  First, it’s all about work, but then they start talking about other things as well: music, literature, films.

Bilbo tells Thorin about his parents and how they died when he was young, but old enough to make it on his own.  Thorin tells him of how his parents were killed and he ran from his home and came to the city to take revenge, but there was no happiness in it.  That’s when he started training at the police academy, and realized that helping people this way was better than being a crook.

On the anniversary of his mother’s death, he goes to the cemetery and finds flowers already there, and a card in his mailbox from Thorin.

He does the same for Thorin, though he gives it to Thorin when they’re at lunch.

They are on a stake out one night, and Bilbo’s glued to his computer, tracking cars and taking down data about where the officers are and who they’re buying from.

Thorin was listening to the radio band, making sure that it was secure and encrypted, but when he turn to look at him he’s fast asleep, slumped on the couch.

Thorin is attractive no matter what, but asleep and unguarded Bilbo thinks he’s gorgeous.  The scar has long since healed but in the harsh light coming from the kitchen, it’s illuminated and harsh on his skin, and Bilbo can’t help but smile a little.

He gets up, small and silent, and throws one of the blankets over Thorin.  He grumbles for a moment but doesn’t wake.

Bilbo wants nothing more than to watch him like this for as long as possible.

* * *

It’s becoming a problem, almost, the attraction to Thorin because now that they’re friends Bilbo doesn’t want to ruin it, doesn’t want to make it awkward because he enjoys Thorin’s company so.  It’s like finally making friends in school after being alone so long.

He can’t handle it if Thorin leaves him again; he doesn’t want to think about what would happen if Thorin found out.

But maybe Thorin knows, just a little, because when they talk over Bilbo’s desk Thorin has a hand on his shoulder, near his neck, thumb pressing into the nape of his neck.

It makes him blush and sweat and hot all over, but he won’t do anything about it.  He can’t.

He’s hunched over his computer trying to things to run properly (but, of course, LEADS is being a shit, it’s always a shit) and he’s thisclose to pulling out his hair when a heavy hand lands on his shoulder.

"Come on, Baggins, let’s go.  You’ve been working for ages."

"I’ve got to get this finished to send out the daily log, but it’s not working-"

"Will it hold until tomorrow?"

"Yes, but I’d like to finish it-"

"Then finish it tomorrow, Baggins.  Let’s get something to eat."

Bilbo sighs.  He knows Thorin won’t relent, because he’s the leader, he’s the captain, so he shuts down his computer and puts things in order before taking his coat from Thorin’s hands and shrugging it on.

They walk to a diner that’s about halfway between both of their apartments and Bilbo can feel the tension, doesn’t much like it and isn’t used to it because everything has been so god between them.

He fills the silence with chatter, Thorin answering when he needs to but just listening and smiling, letting Bilbo talk.  After a while, it’s not awkward anymore, and the silence is comforting.

Bilbo’s nearly done (Thorin finished a long time ago) when Thorin speaks.  ”I never said thank you, you know.”

"You don’t have to, it was implied."

"I called you many things.  None of them were true. I have never been so wrong in all my life. I am sorry I doubted you."

Bilbo flushes.  He doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t trust his throat to not blurt things out, to not tell Thorin anything.

He finishes his dinner and Thorin drops some bills on the table before Bilbo can do anything.  ”I’ll walk you back.  I need the exercise.”

They walk.  A block from the diner Thorin wraps an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close in the cold night air.  Bilbo lets him, though he’s not sure why, worried about about what Thorin will do or say.  He leans in a little, close enough that he can smell pipe tobacco and his cologne, smoky and subtle.  Thorin lets him, tightening the arm around his shoulder.

Thorin ends up walking him all the way into his building, up the stairs to his door, and all Bilbo can manage is, “Um, coffee?”

"Sure."

He struggles with the lock as he always does, but he can feel Thorin behind him, waiting for him to get it open.  It always sticks on the turn and he fights with it for a few seconds before it creaks open and Beorn and Sting are winding around his ankles, meowing for attention.

He stumbles over them and into the kitchen, glancing backwards to find Thorin taking off his coat and crouching down to scratch them behind the ears.

He messes about with the coffee maker and then braces himself on the counter, head hanging low.  He hears Thorin enter the kitchen, his boots loud on the linoleum.  There’s a pause and then Thorin’s behind him, in his space, hands bracketing Bilbo’s.

Without the coat on, he smells even more clearly of smoke and the cold, trees in autumn.  He’s warm at Bilbo’s back, and then he presses his face into the curve of Bilbo’s neck.  His beard is coarse and rough but Bilbo doesn’t care, can’t care, because Thorin’s talking.

"If you want me to stop, you must tell me.  I would expect you to tell me."

"Um," Bilbo says, all eloquence, and Thorin laughs against his throat because Bilbo almost always has things to say, more words than any other person he knows.

His hands move over Bilbo’s then, and Bilbo knows that they’re strong, built for things like handling guns and fights and all these things that Bilbo would never think of using, just because he’s better at sneaking and being quiet and chipping away at things.

"It is not often that your words fail you, my friend," Thorin says, and Bilbo can hear the smile in his words.

"Well, you haven’t done this before, so I’m not quite sure what to say, Thorin," he manages.

Thorin laughs again, fingers flexing and twining with his until Bilbo has to look back, look over his shoulder, and Thorin grins at him, all teeth.

"You can say yes," Thorin tells him, "or you can say no, or you can say not yet, I need some time.  You can say many things, all of which I will listen to, all that will make me more cognizant of the things that you want from me."

"Oh," Bilbo says, and he looks to the coffee maker when it beeps but does nothing, doesn’t move to take the pot off.  He looks back and when he turns their lips meet, clumsy and full of clacking teeth and bumping noses.

Thorin pulls away for a second and turns Bilbo around to kiss him better, make it real, and Bilbo lets him manhandle him (he will always allow Thorin to manhandle him, honestly) fitting their mouths together like pieces of a puzzle, but it was good, better than any of the other kisses he’s had in his time.

Thorin pulls away for a moment and traces his eyes down Bilbo’s face, eyes nose lips eyes, and asks, “What do you say, Bilbo?”

"God, Thorin, yes, of course, always yes," he stutters.

Thorin smiles and leans back in, more kisses, rough and quick but brilliant, as Bilbo had been imagining as of late (though he’d never admit how long, never, not even under threat of death).

They’re pressed up against each other and it’s too many layers of clothing, too much fabric.

"I need you terribly," Thorin murmurs, "have needed you terribly, though I’m not quite sure why, or from when, but I do.  Since you started being there, all the time, useful, wonderful, and it plagues me when you are not."

"Oh," Bilbo responds, and it gets stuck in his throat when Thorin sinks his teeth into the juncture of throat and chin, and  _everyone_  will see that tomorrow because it’s going to bruise but he finds that he doesn’t care, won’t care.

Thorin pulls away for a moment and continues, lips pressed to Bilbo’s ear, “It hurts terribly when you’re away or when I have to fear for you, which is ridiculous because you can take care of yourself - and me, if needs be, you proved it that day with Azog.”

"I told you," Bilbo begins, but Thorin’s kissing him again, just a quick one, and then he continues, "I told you that day I would have done it for anyone, but for you especially - I didn’t say that."

"No, but I knew, when you started talking to me," Thorin says, and presses Bilbo back into the counter, knocking his ankles apart a little to fit between them, and Bilbo has never realized how much  _bigger_  Thorin is in general in comparison to him, just enough to cage him in, make him feel tiny.

He squirms closer, fitting into the space that Thorin has made for him, pushing his hands inside the leather jacket that Thorin wears over his button-downs, under the winter coat, feeling the tense and release of his muscles along his back.  He doesn’t know what to say or how to answer so he chooses not to, just presses his face into Thorin’s chest and breaths him in.

"We have a raid to plan in the morning," Bilbo says because he doesn’t know what else to say, really, and Thorin laughs softly above him.

"Should we sleep, then?"

"You want to sleep?" Bilbo pulls back and grins, because he knows that he’s got Thorin, has him, even if he didn’t know that he wanted him, or how badly.

Thorin’s smile is teeth, all bite, and makes another suck mark under Bilbo’s ear before speaking.  ”I don’t sleep well before planning, so perhaps you have a better plan?”

"It’s what I’m good at," Bilbo quips, a smile blooming.

"I know," Thorin whispers, and takes him by the belt loops to wind their way around Bilbo’s apartment as though he knows it, owns it, and Bilbo supposes he does, in a strange way, because it’s Bilbo’s, and he has Bilbo for as long as he wants him.


End file.
